To Be The Moon
She walks the street
moon light pours down.
He could be one
she shies away.
Looks over her shoulder,
is that man walking too close?
It's not safe
in the cold dark,
not for a woman.
What beast is man?
Where is her night,
why does she have to be afraid?
The mace, the knife, the gun
false senses of security.
The moon is feminine,
but unafraid,
so far from the reaches of man.
To be the moon.
-srw
poetry angstmain page